


suddenly the air is new

by shikae (39smooth)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Babysitter!Jongdae, Domestic Fluff, Eternally Down On His Luck!Joonmyun, Family Feels, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid!Jongin, Kid!Sehun, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:10:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4261167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/39smooth/pseuds/shikae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joonmyun falls in love with the new nanny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. now

**Author's Note:**

> written january 2014, for an exopromptmeme prompt.

“Please,” says Joonmyun, stumbling forward and nearly tripping over the coffee table, “reconsider. I’ll give you a raise!”  
  
The door slams in his face.  
  
A few seconds of quiet hover over the room, before Joonmyun turns around to face the two fidgeting children behind him. “What,” he starts slowly, “did you do this time?”  
  
“Sehun made me do it!” cries Jongin immediately.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“It’s the fourth babysitter they’ve scared off in—what, three months?” Kyungsoo frowns, and sets a cup of coffee down in front of Joonmyun. “What’s going on?”  
  
“I don’t know,” says Joonmyun tiredly, pressing his fingertips against his temples. Even the soothing smell of hot brew in the morning can’t undo the major headache he’s fallen prey to. He’s got deadlines to match and paperwork to finish up, and on top of that, the latest nanny has just quit. “Maybe they’re just acting out. They’re just kids. And it’s not been long since…”  
  
Kyungsoo’s expression softens, and he rests a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder. “I can take the kids now and then, if you can’t find anyone. I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind, either.”  
  
“I can’t do that to you,” says Joonmyun, shaking his head, wondering whether his sister would mind watching them for a few days, just until he finds someone to replace the old nanny. “It’ll be fine. I’ll just find someone else.”  
  
“Be sure,” says Kyungsoo, and he leaves Joonmyun with his coffee and headache.  
  
Joonmyun picks up the day’s newspaper and flips through to the advertisement section. Huh, he thinks, maybe he should place an ad instead of calling agencies instead. He’s about to make a note of it to himself when his phone hums loudly for his attention beside his elbow.  
  
The number is one he’s seen on a regular basis, and a sigh escapes him as he accepts the call. “Hello, Ms. Jihyun, this is Joonmyun. Ah, yes, yes. I see.” He’s already getting up to grab his laptop bag and coat, shrugging it on quickly, phone pressed to his shoulder. “Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sehun is quiet in the car.   
  
Joonmyun has his hands on the steering wheel, tapping lightly. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’d just like to hear your side of things,” he says mildly, and in the rearview mirror, he can see Sehun’s face darken. “Sehun.”  
  
The boy doesn’t say a word till they’re home, and Joonmyun parks the car in the front, waiting.   
  
Sehun is only nine this year, but he’s as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and this isn’t the first time he’s gotten into trouble at school. It’s the second time this year that Joonmyun’s had to pick him up from the principal’s office, and Joonmyun doesn’t know what to do.   
  
There’s a little movement, and then Sehun’s mumbling, “I didn’t start it.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t start it or not,” says Joonmyun, and he opens the door. “Come on, kiddo, let’s talk inside.”  
  
The little boy trudges in after him, a scowl on his face, and seats himself on the sofa in the living room.  
  
“Now.” Joonmyun sits down beside him. “What’s this I hear about fighting again?”  
  
Sehun’s expression wobbles. “They were picking on me. Calling me bad names and stuff. I didn’t want them to. So I hit them.”  
  
“Sehun, oh, pal,” says Joonmyun quietly, “I’ve told you that isn’t the way to solve things.”  
  
“Then what was I supposed to do?” Sehun sniffs, and looks away. “They made fun of me. And Jongin. And they kept saying some stuff about mommy.”  
  
Joonmyun tenses up, but he keeps his voice calm. “What kind of stuff, Sehun?”  
  
“Like,” starts Sehun, but he’s got tears in his eyes, and he sniffs furiously. “Stuff about her being gone because she didn’t want us anymore, and—“  
  
That’s all Joonmyun needs to hear from him, and he sweeps Sehun up in a hug immediately, ignoring the surprised yelp from the boy. “Don’t listen to them,” says Joonmyun fiercely, “don’t listen to them, okay, kiddo? She loved you so much, mommy loved you so much, and you have to remember that. Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” hiccups Sehun, and his little fingers curl into the front of Joonmyun’s shirt. “Daddy?”  
  
“Yeah, kiddo?” murmurs Joonmyun, holding him tighter. Sehun only calls him that when he’s really upset, and he knows the next question will only serve to upset him further.  
  
“Is she really gone?” is all Sehun whispers, before he starts bawling, and Joonmyun just holds him, rubbing comforting circles into his back as Sehun sobs, over and over, the same two words, “where’s mommy, where’s mommy, where’s mommy.”  
  
And Joonmyun doesn’t have an answer for him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 ** _Needed_** :  
 _Part-time nanny/baby sitter for 2 kids, will pay well, qualifications not necessary but experience valued. Extreme patience and willingness to stay calm in whatever situation is most important. Please contact for further details._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **chen.dae@fleckens.hu**  
to junmyunkim  
  
 _hello there!_  
  
 _i’ve just come across your advert, the one for a nanny/babysitter, and i’d like to apply for the job! my name is kim jongdae, and i’ve attached my cv with the email. hope to hear from you soon!_ _ヾ_ _(´_ _･_ _ω_ _･_ _｀_ _)_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“He seems a little young,” murmurs Kyungsoo, eyes scanning the piece of paper in his hands. “You’ve never had a male nanny, have you?”  
  
“Nope. But maybe the change will be good,” says Joonmyun, sipping at his latte. “Besides, thirty-one isn’t young. He’s older than you are. And there haven’t been any other emails or calls. I’m going to have to take my chances here.”  
  
He decides to meet up with the new applicant during lunch, since he’s got a rather free day today, and doesn’t have to rush off for any meetings. He picks the café downstairs and waits with a book in hand, the one he’d asked Kyungsoo to lend him for light reading.   
  
Halfway through the eight chapter, a figure sits down in front of him, and hums. “Winterson. That’s a good book there.”  
  
Joonmyun glances up, and sets the book on the table hastily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming in.”  
  
Wind-swept, dark brown hair. Plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up. A smile. “It’s alright. I get caught up in reading too, sometimes.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Kim Jongdae.”  
  
“Kim Joonmyun,” replies Joonmyun, shaking his hand, smiling back. “Thank you for applying, by the way. It hasn’t been easy finding someone new to take the job.”  
  
“You’ve had previous nannies before?”   
  
“Yes,” says Joonmyun, wondering if he should tell Jongdae, and he decides he should be honest, “but they’ve all quit.”  
  
Jongdae hums again, a quiet sound that rumbles through Joonmyun. “Not to be rude or anything, but I’m assuming the kids chased them off?”  
  
Joonmyun blinks. “Uh, yes. How’d you know?”  
  
“I have a sense for these things.” Jongdae smiles again, and Joonmyun wonders if that cheerful expression will stick after he’s met the two terrors. “Don’t worry. I’m good with kids.”  
  
“I hope so,” says Joonmyun.  
  
Jongdae just smiles.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 9.43a.m.**  
hello, this is jongdae right? joonmyun here, just checking to see if you cn find the place  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 9.45a.m.**  
will be there soon! no worries ^^  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Please, don’t scare him away this time, okay?” Joonmyun’s got a pleading look on his face. “It’s for your own good.”  
  
Sehun doesn’t say a word, but little Jongin, who’s only five, asks curiously, “Daddy, I thought nannies were girls.”  
  
“There are boy nannies too, sweetheart,” says Joonmyun warmly, and he leads the two kids out to the living room, where Jongdae’s standing. “Say hi to Jongdae.”  
  
“Hi,” says Jongin shyly. Sehun doesn’t even look his way.  
  
“Hello there,” says Jongdae, “and what do I call the both of you?”  
  
“I’m Jongin.” Jongin points at Sehun. “This is Sehun. We’re brothers.”  
  
“Ah,” says Jongdae, as if the fact is completely new to him, and he nods enthusiastically. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kim brothers.”  
  
“My surname is Oh,” mutters Sehun.  
  
“His mother’s surname,” explains Joonmyun quickly, and to his credit, Jongdae doesn’t even look phased in the slightest. “She was an only child, and wanted the family name to continue.”  
  
“That’s cool,” says Jongdae, and he kneels down, to match Sehun’s height. “Wow, you’re tall, aren’t you?”  
  
Sehun ignores him, and stalks off. Jongdae just watches him go calmly.   
  
Joonmyun cringes. “I’m sorry about that. He’s just… it takes him time to get used to new people.”  
  
“It’s okay,” says Jongdae, “we’ve got time to get used to each other.”  
  
“I’d better show you where everything is, then,” starts Joonmyun, but then Jongin’s tugging on his trouser leg, and he glances down.   
  
“Can I?” asks Jongin, eyes big and adorable. It’s one of his charms, being irresistably cute, and all the adults tend to fall for it all the time. Joonmyun likes to think he’s immune to it.   
  
Well, most of the time. “Alright. Go ahead. Make sure you show him where the first aid kit is, remember where daddy showed you the last time? In the last drawer.”  
  
“Okay!” says Jongin immediately, and he trots away, an amused Jongdae following after.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 2.34p.m.**  
hi, just checkin w/u if snacks r ok for them  
thought i might make some  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 2.35p.m.**  
np! that sounds nice  
just nothing with peanut butter bc jongin is a bit fussy and he had a weird experience with it before  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 2.36p.m.**  
no pb ok got it!!!! but you gotta tell me that story sometime im curious now  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 2.37p.m.**  
sure haha  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jongin takes to Jongdae like a fish to water.  
  
It’s endearing to see the little boy follow after Jongdae like a lost puppy, no matter what he’s doing, and Joonmyun’s actually glad for it. Jongin’s always been shy around strangers, and the nannies have always said he’d been too quiet, but around Jongdae, he smiles wider and laughs louder, and it warms Joonmyun’s heart to see his son cheerful again.  
  
“And then, we made a lego house, but then Jongdae said that we should make a castle instead so the dinosaurs can have a bigger place to live, and then the cars came and attacked the castle and wanted to kidnap the princess dinosaur but then the dinosaurs ate the cars and saved the princess dinosaur and then they all had a dinosaur party,” gushes Jongin all in one go, over dinner on the first night.  
  
Joonmyun had come home after work to see Jongin curled up in a fort of lego blocks and blankets, and Jongdae quietly watching Sehun do his homework at the dinner table. Sehun hadn’t paid much attention to Jongdae, but Joonmyun considers it a win that Jongdae hadn’t yet fled the premises.  
  
“That’s great,” says Joonmyun gladly, and he nudges Jongin’s plate. “Come on, eat your rice.”  
  
“Okay,” says Jongin, stuffing rice into his mouth. “An’f th’n w’play’d kr’ykey!”  
  
“Remember, don’t talk when you’re eating, Jongin.”  
  
The boy swallows, and says, “I said, and then we played ka-ree-oh-key!”  
  
“What’s that?” asks Joonmyun in amusement. “Is it a board game?”  
  
“Nuh!” Jongin shakes his head. “On Jongdae’s phone. They have words and music and you sing along to it.”  
  
“Oh, karaoke,” says Joonmyun, laughing. “How fun.”  
  
“Sounds boring,” says Sehun, stabbing at his vegetables with his fork.   
  
“It wasn’t boring, take it back!” says Jongin, pouting.   
  
Sehun’s always had a huge soft spot for Jongin, everyone knows that, and even the slightest cute expression is enough to make Sehun feel bad about anything. “Sorry,” says Sehun remorsefully, grabbing Jongin’s hand, “It’s not boring if you say it isn’t.”  
  
Jongin beams, and holds Sehun’s hand for the rest of dinner.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“How are things?”   
  
Joonmyun sighs, and nods. “They’re surprisingly alright, for once. It’s only been a week, so nothing’s really set in stone, yet.”  
  
“Good.” Kyungsoo’s lips quirk up at the corners. “Have the kids tried anything, yet?”  
  
“Well, Jongin really likes him.” Joonmyun thinks back to every night he’s come home to stories of ‘ _me and Jongdae did this_ ’ and ‘ _Jongdae showed me that_ ,’ and then he remembers Sehun, still refusing to get along with Jongdae. “Sehun’s still… warming up to him.”  
  
“You mean Sehun doesn’t like him at all, don’t you,” says Kyungsoo dryly.  
  
“He’s just shy,” says Joonmyun, but he knows that’s not true. “They’ll get along soon.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 3.56p.m.**  
sry but wanted to ask if you could extend your hours till seven just for the week? i hv some late meetings ;;  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 4.00p.m.**  
no it’s cool haha i don’t mind  
i’ll bring some kid friendly movies over if u don’t mind  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 4.00p.m.**  
go ahead! and thank you so much ^_^   
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 4.03p.m.**  
c:  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sehun only goes off to school at seven-thirty, and he isn’t enrolling Jongin into kindergarten until next year, so Joonmyun spends the earliest part of his mornings getting to know Jongdae, who always comes by at six with the brightest expression he’s ever seen on anybody who wakes up at the crack of dawn.  
  
“It’s fine,” says Jongdae, smiling over the flask of coffee he’d brought with him, “I just figured I should be here in case you ever need to rush off quick or anything.”  
  
“But really, Jongdae,” says Joonmyun, over his own coffee, “the kids aren’t even awake yet, and I wouldn’t want you to go to all this trouble.”  
  
“You’re paying me, remember?” Jongdae laughs, and it’s refreshing to Joonmyun’s still slightly sleep-logged hearing. “No worries. Besides, I get to talk to you, don’t I? That’s a bonus in itself.”  
  
Joonmyun laughs along, and pretends the embarrassed flush creeping up his neck is just a figment of his imagination.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They live in a small house on the outskirts of the city, just the three of them.  
  
Joonmyun had never believed in big spaces, had never liked the idea of spending more than necessary, and neither had she. That was only one of the many things they’d had in common.   
  
They’d shared a love for pastel colours and a propensity for working long hours into the night, and had hit it off after meeting at a Christmas party at the company they’d both worked at. Friendship had turned into flirting, and flirting had turned into light touches and soft smiles, and they’d fallen in love over sunsets by the docks and Chinese take-out after late meetings.  
  
She’d been his everything.  
  
It’s been four years, and Joonmyun still wakes up some mornings, expecting to feel the warmth of another body beside him, expecting a soft kiss to the back of his neck, expecting a whispered, sleepy, “Morning.”  
  
Today is another one of those mornings, and the room feels empty without her presence. Joonmyun drags himself out of bed and spends a few minutes coming to his senses, just looking around the room as the sleep slips away from his mind.  
  
Her smiling face stares at him from behind a photo frame on his desk.  
  
Kyungsoo’s been trying to get him to start dating again, but Joonmyun’s not ready for it. It’s only been four years. Not long at all. And Joonmyun doesn’t think he can find that kind of love again.  
  
“I can introduce you to this very nice cousin of mine,” tries Kyungsoo again, a week into June, as they’re looking over a sprawl of papers spread across a long table. They’re working late again, and Joonmyun’s glad that Jongdae had been okay with staying longer to watch the kids. It’s been a month since Jongdae has first started working for him, and he’s still around, to his surprise. “Hmm?”  
  
Joonmyun snaps out of his thoughts, and shakes his head hurriedly. “No blind dates, no cousins, Kyungsoo, you know I don’t need a relationship now.”  
  
“It’s been four years,” says Kyungsoo softly, and Joonmyun snorts. Exactly. Four years. “I’m not asking you to move on. I’m just asking you to think about yourself once in a while.”  
  
“I do think about myself,” says Joonmyun indignantly. “I just… I don’t need anyone, okay?”  
  
Kyungsoo says nothing more, but Joonmyun knows he hasn’t heard the end of it.  
  
They end up finishing only at ten, and by the time Joonmyun manages to get home, it’s eleven, and he curses under his breath, wondering how long Jongdae’s been waiting and feeling guilty that he’d asked Jongdae to stay so long.  
  
Opening the door slowly, he tiptoes in and glances around. The house is quiet, spare a soft voice from the living room, singing. It’s familiar, and it’s light and tinkling and something in him skitters when the voice fades. “Jongdae?” he calls, and a head pops up from the sofa, a finger pressed to his lips. “What are you—“  
  
“Shh,” whispers Jongdae, “Sehun’s asleep.”  
  
Joonmyun rounds the sofa, and a little smile settles in place on his features when he takes in the sight of his eldest son curled up on the sofa, clutching at a little deer plush toy.   
  
“I’m sorry,” says Jongdae earnestly, voice low but loud enough for Joonmyun to catch, “He wanted to wait up for you and I put on a movie in hopes that he’d drift off. And I wasn’t sure if I should move him. Jongin’s already asleep in their room.”  
  
“That’s okay.” Joonmyun slides his arms around Sehun’s little shoulders, and picks him up easily, wondering when Sehun had gotten this skinny. “Could you get the door?”  
  
They settle Sehun into his bed, and Joonmyun pulls up the covers, pressing a chaste kiss to Sehun’s forehead.   
  
As soon as he shuts the door behind him, he’s saying, “I am truly, truly sorry that I took so long to get back, things were taking really long at the office.”  
  
“It’s fine,” says Jongdae, smiling. “I got to be with the kids longer. Sehun finally talked to me today.”  
  
“He did?” Joonmyun blinks, several times. “What did he say?”  
  
“It was  _amazing_.” Jongdae’s smile turns teasing. “He said, ‘This movie’s not horrible.’ Can you believe it?”  
  
Joonmyun snorts. “The way you put it sounds like he just told you the cure for cancer.”  
  
“Hey, you never know.” Jongdae shrugs. “ _Frozen_  is a very healing film for the soul. Great soundtrack, too.”  
  
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Joonmyun runs his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. “It’s getting late.”  
  
Jongdae starts. “Ah, right. I should go.” He makes to move for his things, but Joonmyun steps forward hurriedly.  
  
“No, wait.” Jongdae pauses. “You can stay over, if you want. It’s late, and it’s probably not very safe driving back at this hour alone.”  
  
“I don’t want to intrude,” starts Jongdae hesitantly, but Joonmyun insists, and soon enough, he’s got Jongdae in the guest bedroom, saying that it’s the least he can do since he returned home so late.  
  
“Thank you, by the way,” murmurs Joonmyun, handing Jongdae a blanket. “And congratulations on lasting a month.”  
  
Jongdae hides a yawn behind his hand. “A month already? Time flies.” He smiles again, sleepily, and it’s contagious, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and his lips quirk up in the smallest motion. “Thank you too, Joonmyun.”  
  
Joonmyun nods, and backs out of the room. “Good night.”  
  
“Night.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 10.10a.m.**  
 _[attachment]_  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 10.10a.m.**  
jongin made a fingerpainting and wanted to show u :) it’s the three of u btw  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 10.12a.m.**  
that’s cute :) tell him i said it’s very nice  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 10.13a.m.**  
he says tq c: what a polite kid  
he must get that from his dad ㅋㅋ ;)  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 10.14a.m.**  
:)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Two months in, and Jongdae’s still around.  
  
It’s a miracle, it really is, thinks Joonmyun, coming home to Jongin immediately flinging himself at his knees, and Sehun hollering, “Hi, Dad!” from the kitchen, and seeing Jongdae’s face still as cheerful as the day he first walked into the house.  
  
“I mean,” says Joonmyun in wonder, taking a bite of tteokbokki, “Sehun hasn’t done a single thing to him! And Jongin absolutely adores him. And Sehun is talking to him! Actual sentences!”  
  
Kyungsoo’s slightly in awe, Joonmyun can tell, by the little bit of sauce that’s dripping onto his tie without him even noticing. “And things are alright at school?”  
  
“Not a single phone call,” says Joonmyun proudly. “Told you hiring a male nanny would work out somehow.”  
  
“Should probably learn his methods,” says Kyungsoo thoughtfully, and it’s only then he notices the stain on his necktie. “Ah, shit.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He probably spoke too soon, to think of it.  
  
It’s barely less than a week from the day he waxed lyrical about Jongdae’s caretaking abilities, and now Sehun’s back to ignoring Jongdae and fuming silently in the corner.  
  
And this time, Joonmyun has no idea why.  
  
But Jongdae does.  
  
“He’s jealous,” whispers Jongdae over dinner, eyes darting to where Sehun and Jongin are watching television. Joonmyun had invited him to stay for the meal, and Jongdae had graciously accepted. “Just a little. He’ll grow out of it, don’t worry.”  
  
“Jealous? Of what?”  
  
“Me,” says Jongdae, clearly amused, “Jongin has a little crush, and Sehun doesn’t like the fact that I’m getting all his attention now.”  
  
“Ah,” says Joonmyun, feeling himself smile, and the thought itself is terribly adorable. Jongin having a little kid crush on his grownup baby-sitter. “No surprise that he does,” voices Joonmyun, and Jongdae’s nose scrunches up in confusion.   
  
“Why not?” Jongdae’s expression is almost as cute as the fact that Jongin has a crush. Wait, what? “Does he tend to have crushes on his sitters often?”  
  
“No, no,” says Joonmyun, “well. There  _was_  that one time with the hairband girl, but then Sehun flushed her favourite bracelet down the toilet, and then she quit.” Joonmyun sighs, and flicks the memory away from his head. “No surprise, I guess, because you’re nice. And stuff.”  
  
Jongdae raises an eyebrow. “Stuff?”  
  
“Yeah, uh, like.” Joonmyun waves his hand. “You play with him, and tell him stories, and you make him snacks. He’s five. You’re probably his hero. Besides,” he adds, the words just coming out of his mouth, “you’re rather good-looking.”  
  
Jongdae’s smile grows, and Joonmyun realises what he’s just said, and he hurriedly adds on to that, saying, “Not that I meant it in any other context, I mean, uh, well, you are, and I just—“  
  
“Observation, got it.” Jongdae winks. “And thank you. You’re not too bad on the eyes yourself.”  
  
He doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that he’s blushing like a fourteen-year-old, or the fact that he’s inadvertently flirting with his children’s nanny, despite the fact that he’s straight. “Thank you.”  
  
“So,” says Jongdae conversationally, not seeming to pick up on his embarrassment, or maybe he’s just politely ignoring it, “a man like you must be quite popular with the ladies.”  
  
“Me?” Joonmyun laughs. “I haven’t seen anyone in a long time, ever since…” He trails off, thinking about her again, and he clears his throat, “… ever since my wife passed.”  
  
“Oh,” says Jongdae, and the empathy in his voice is genuine, “oh, I’m sorry for bringing it up.” He reaches over to place a hand comfortingly on Joonmyun’s arm, and Joonmyun smiles at him, appreciating the gesture. “Their mother?”  
  
“Yes,” says Joonmyun. “Car accident. The kids had some trouble adapting. Sehun, especially, with the sitters and all. He doesn’t like strangers.” He takes a quick glance towards where Jongin has his head on Sehun’s shoulder, about to doze off. “But you’re still here.”  
  
“I am,” says Jongdae in understanding. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”  
  
“Well, you’ve done a lot of good for them,” says Joonmyun gratefully, “and things seem to be getting better. Thank you, for whatever you’re doing. It’s working.”  
  
Jongdae laughs, and the sound is breezy. It reminds Joonmyun of old memories by the sea. “I guess that’s why you pay me, then.”  
  
He sees Jongdae off when he leaves, and as he stands on the porch, Jongdae says suddenly, “Would you mind if I took the kids somewhere nice, next week? That is, if it’s okay with you. Maybe Lotte World, or something.”  
  
Joonmyun feels his heart tighten a little. Ever since he started working compulsively after her death, he hasn’t had the time to take them anywhere. But Jongdae is here, and his eyes are bright and his smile is warm, and it floods Joonmyun’s heart with a new will. “Sure thing. Bring back some cotton candy, will you?”  
  
“Of course I will,” says Jongdae easily, stepping off the porch, hands in his coat pockets. “See you, Joonmyun.”  
  
“Drive safe,” calls Joonmyun, just as Jongdae slips into his beat-up sedan, and waves back at him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.34a.m.**  
ヽ(°o° )ノ  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.36a.m.**  
somebody’s excited i see  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.37a.m.**  
〜(￣o￣〜)  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.37a.m.**  
u should see jongin he’s bouncing off the walls  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.38a.m.**  
cute ^^  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.39a.m.**  
sehun knows how to smileeeeeeeeee wowowowow sry lol  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.40a.m.**  
take a picture ㅋㅋ  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.39a.m.**  
 _[attachment]_  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.40a.m.**  
tell him to comb his hair haha he looks excited  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.41a.m.**  
i may hv promised 1 or 7 rollercoaster rides >.>  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.42a.m.**  
jongin said he doesnt want those so we’re gonna do the teacup ride about 48938 times first  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.43a.m.**  
no more than 4 he gets nauseous sometimes  
also gd luck lol don’t let him fall off he likes to climb things   
but you know that already  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.44a.m.**  
no fear my friend（＾u＾）my little kimjongbro is in good hands  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.45a.m.**  
have fun ok! ^^ tell them i said hi  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.47a.m.**  
 _[attachment]_  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.48a.m.**  
they said they’ll bring u some presents and jongin says he wants to c u   
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.50a.m.**  
 _[attachment]_  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.51a.m.**  
wow mr handsome office dad check u out  
jongin says u look very work yes he used it as an adjective  
sehun says comb ur own hair ㅎㅎㅎㅎㅎㅎㅎ  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.52a.m.**  
that little brat =.=  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.52a.m.**  
hahahahahahahaaaa  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.53a.m.**  
want to beat the morning traffic so we’re gonna go now~  
  
 **from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 8.54a.m.**  
drive safe! :)  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.55a.m.**  
we’ll be thinking of u! hv fun at work~!  
  
 **from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 8.55a.m.**  
:))))  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“You’re smiling at your phone,” notes Kyungsoo. “Scored a date?”  
  
Joonmyun splutters. “I was texting Jongdae.” He clicks his phone off, and sets it on the table. “He’s taking Jongin and Sehun to Lotte World today.”  
  
“Jongdae,” hums Kyungsoo, eyes glinting with a hint of something. Joonmyun hates it when Kyungsoo’s eyes glint; it means he’s got something insidious planned in that evil little brain of his. “You’re both becoming quite close, aren’t you?”  
  
“Of course,” says Joonmyun, eyebrows furrowing, “why wouldn’t we be? I see him every day when he comes over for the kids.”  
  
“Hmm,” is all Kyungsoo says, floating away with a stack of files in his hands, “hmm.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Dad!” This time it’s not Jongin who flings himself at Joonmyun’s knees, but an excitable Sehun instead, and a pleasantly surprised Joonmyun picks him up and swings him around in greeting, basking in the little giggles that escape the boy’s mouth. “I went on a rollercoaster!”

“You mean we went on a rollercoaster,” says Jongdae, looking a little pale but still cheery, “three times in a row.”

“Wait—then, where was Jongin?”

“A friend of mine actually works at Lotte World,” says Jongdae, and Joonmyun notices that Jongin’s holding his hand, beaming away. “He gave us a little tour and watched over Jongin while I took Sehun on some of the rides.”

“He got me ice cream,” pipes up Jongin, “it was green.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” says Joonmyun, again surprised, “I know someone who works there too. If I’d known, I would’ve called him.”

“Ah, it’s no problem.” Jongdae smiles, and waves a hand at him casually. “Yixing likes doing things like this.”

“Yixing?” Joonmyun’s mouth falls open. “Zhang Yixing?”

“You know him?” exclaims Jongdae, grinning.

Joonmyun nods. “He was one of my old flatmates, back in our college days. He’s the friend I meant.”

“Wait a minute.” Jongdae’s eyes are wide, and he throws his head back in laughter. “No way. I knew almost all of Yixing’s flatmates… Baekhyun, Minseok.” Jongdae pauses. “You were the political science guy! The one Baekhyun said never came out of his room.”

It’s too good to be true. “I’ve never seen you in my life,” says Joonmyun, still slightly in shock. “And you knew all my flatmates?”

True, he did stay to himself a lot during university, but it’s not like he was some social outcast. And here he is, talking to Kim Jongdae, who apparently knew him even before he knew it was himself.

“Baekhyun and I were best friends in high school.” Jongdae smiles fondly at the memory. “We were going to share a flat, but I ended up staying with my boyfriend at the time instead.”

“Boyfriend,” says Joonmyun, “hold on, don’t tell me. Secretly another one of my friends?”

Jongdae laughs. “No, you wouldn’t have known him. He was a real jerk. I dumped him after walking in on him and some chick in bed. You wouldn’t have liked him to begin with.”

“He probably didn’t deserve you anyway,” Joonmyun says without thinking, and Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “I mean. Uh.”

“He didn’t,” says Jongdae casually, “but thank you for that.”

“Ah, well, enough of that.” Joonmyun steals a glance at the kids, who’d slipped away from them sometime during the conversation, and are curled up on the sofa, comparing their souvenirs from the day’s venture. “How was the trip?”

Immediately, Jongdae starts chattering about all the places they went to, and the kids jump in with their own accounts of the trip, and Joonmyun throws in his own questions too, laughing when they jump up excitedly to answer.

He hasn’t seen Sehun this enthusiastic in a long time, and it’s amazing to hear that laugh come from him, that smile on his features, and that happiness that glows in his eyes.

The house feels alive for once in four years, and Joonmyun wants it to stay like this as long as it can.

He meets Jongdae’s gaze, and they share a smile.

And Joonmyun doesn’t want to lie to himself, but if that wasn’t his heart suddenly thumping irrationally erratic, well then.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 2.30p.m.**  
i think sehun is finally starting to like meeeeee

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 2.33p.m.**  
what makes you say tht

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 2.35p.m.**  
he let me help him w/his hmwrk :))))))))

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 2.36p.m.**  
:))))

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 2.37p.m.**  
:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo comes over to see the kids one Saturday afternoon, and isn’t surprised when Jongin goes on and on about Jongdae and how he dressed up as a super space explorer and took Jongin to see Pluto in their spacecraft built from stools and pillows and old boxes. “He sounds nice,” says Kyungsoo, watching Jongin nod enthusiastically. “Mm, Sehun?”

Sehun’s always been quiet around Kyungsoo too, even though Kyungsoo and Joonmyun have been friends for years now, and Kyungsoo has seen the kids regularly, but today, Sehun lifts his head from where he’s doodling over his homework, and says, “I like Jongdae. He helps me with history.”

Joonmyun takes a photo of Kyungsoo’s flabbergasted face and sends it to Jongdae with the caption, ‘ _sehun told kyungsoo that he likes you_.’

His phone pings back with the reply of, ‘ _told u_.’

Kyungsoo doesn’t ask why he rolls his eyes in amusement at his phone. He figures Kyungsoo probably knows why anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 4.24p.m.**  
do you kno how to cook pasta T-T sry for intruding

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 4.26p.m.**  
i make the best aglio e olio ever yes but why do u require assistance in the kitchen

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 4.27p.m.**  
testing a recipe for family potluck i just burnt my third try…………

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 4.28p.m.**  
HAHAHAHA

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 4.28p.m.**  
ur in luck im free today ^^  
be there in fifteen i hope ur family likes seafood

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This is great,” says Junghee in surprise over the spaghetti later that night, “Joonmyun, you didn’t tell me you’d learnt to cook. I wasn’t even holding out any hope for you tonight.”

“Hey!” Joonmyun gives his sister a look. “I can cook some things. And I didn’t do all of this, actually. Jongdae helped a lot. I mainly just ended up burning pasta.”

“Jongdae?” One of the twin cousins, probably Minsoo, Joonmyun still can’t tell after all these years, asks, “Friend of yours?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” The thought makes Joonmyun pause for a while, though. Have they become friends? They probably have, considering that they joke around and laugh at each other way more freely than a usual employer-employee relationship would entail. “He’s the kids’ babysitter, to be more accurate.”

“You’re friends with the babysitter?” The other twin frowns. “How old is he?”

“A year younger than me, and it’s fine,” says Joonmyun, “he’s very nice, and the kids like him.”

“The kids like him? Well, that’s a first,” says Junghee, looking thoughtful, “how long has he been working there again?”

Joonmyun counts in his head. “About four months. And a half.”

The table all make varying reactions of disbelief and surprise. “No way,” says Minsoo, “don’t the two terror tots scare everyone off within a month or so?”

“Like I said, they like him.” Joonmyun smiles. “Even Sehun talks to him, and Sehun doesn’t talk to anybody. I’m really grateful for him, to be completely honest. He’s brought the house back to life. I don’t know how it’d have been without him there.”

“Huh,” says Junghee, her eyes bright, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were talking about a new love interest or something.”

Joonmyun chokes on his water. “Junghee, I don’t like him that way!”

“Are you sure,” teases his other cousin, Sunhwa, “you’ve got that goofy smile on your face, the one you used to have around all your crushes when you were little.”

“I don’t have a crush on Jongdae,” says Joonmyun crossly, and he pouts. “Besides, I’m not gay. Stop being adolescents.”

“Says the one who’s sulking.” Junghee nudges him lightly. “Cheer up. I think it’s nice that you’ve got someone around the house, even if you’re in denial.” Her tone goes softer. “It’s been four and a half years, Joonmyun.”

“I know,” says Joonmyun, but inside, something’s twisting in a weird way, and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of the food, or because he doesn’t even know himself properly anymore. “Four and a half years still isn’t that long.”

“When you look at it from our point of view, you’ve been alone for a very long time, Joonmyun,” says Minsoo quietly, “give yourself a chance, won’t you?”

And Joonmyun doesn’t know what to say to that, other than, “So, how has work been for all of you?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You sing well,” comments Joonmyun casually, after catching Jongdae singing to himself around the house for the third time since he’s started working there, “really well.”

Is that a shy flush he sees on Jongdae’s cheeks? “Thanks,” says Jongdae, scratching the back of his neck, smiling slightly, “Jongin likes it when I sing for him before naps, sometimes.”

“I can see why,” says Joonmyun. “I’d listen to your voice before naps too, if I were him.”

Jongdae laughs. “You’re a bit too old for Winnie-the-Pooh songs, I think.”

He makes to get his things, since Joonmyun’s home, but Joonmyun stops him for a second, and asks, “Stay for dinner? I have to repay you for that spaghetti fiasco.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” starts Jongdae, but in the end, he’s sitting at the table next to Sehun, while Joonmyun passes plates around. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do. Besides,” says Joonmyun, “didn’t you say once that you like this dish a lot?”

“I did,” admits Jongdae, looking at the table with hunger in his gaze, “and it’s been a while since I’ve had a full meal, actually.”

“Why?” asks Sehun curiously, glancing at him. “Don’t you eat at home?”

“Not that often,” says Jongdae, smiling at Sehun, “I don’t have a kitchen at home, so I usually just eat lunch here and breakfast the next day outside.”

“Stay for dinner more then,” says Sehun simply, and Jongdae blinks at him, “you’re getting too skinny to carry Jongin around. I don’t want you to drop him.”

“You’re a twig yourself, who are you to say that?” replies Jongdae, poking Sehun with his spoon, “And I don’t want to give you guys more trouble. I’m already here half the day.”

Joonmyun’s about to pipe up to say otherwise, but Sehun, to his immense surprise, keeps talking. “But we don’t mind. I’m sure Dad doesn’t mind either. He likes you. Right, Dad?”

Three pairs of eyes swivel towards him immediately.

“Of course I do,” starts Joonmyun, eyes flitting to where Jongdae is, “and I’d honestly sleep a lot better knowing that you weren’t starving through the night, and it’s really no trouble at all—“

“See!” says Sehun triumphantly. “It’s no trouble. Also,” he says, “I like when you’re around. Jongin is happy. Dad’s happy. So I’m happy.”

“You say that like we weren’t happy before,” says Joonmyun.

“But we weren’t.” Sehun’s words are a sharp pang in his chest. “But it’s better now. Isn’t it, Jongin?”

Jongin nods enthusiastically. “I like Jongdae lots!”

“Aw,” says Jongdae, smiling, “I like you lots too, buddy.”

“Like, a lot of lots!” says Jongin. “So you gotta stay.”

Meanwhile, Joonmyun’s been listening to the exchange with a shocked look on his face, and he had no idea that the kids felt that way. Has he really been that bad of a father? Not even noticing that his kids weren’t totally happy?

But then, Sehun’s right. Things are better now, somehow. They’re smiling more, laughing more, feeling more alive, and Joonmyun has gone to bed several nights and woken up feeling as light as the day before, with those usual painful thoughts of her lessened significantly.

And it’s because of Jongdae, who’s walked into this house and walked straight into their hearts, and the realisation suddenly hits Joonmyun that maybe he does like Jongdae more than he’d thought he did.

“Joonmyun?” calls Jongdae quietly, bringing him back to attention. “Are you okay?”

“Stay,” is all Joonmyun says, and he hopes the smile on his own face can show how grateful he is for everything Jongdae has done, and is. “They’re right, you know.”

And Jongdae’s eyes brighten, and they crinkle at the corners, and his smile is warm, so very warm, and it’s the most beautiful thing Joonmyun has seen in years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**from: a@kimjongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 10.38p.m.**  
thank u for dinner. i really appreciated it. :))))) and thank u for the dinners to come.   
im really touched im serious i’ve nvr met anyone nicer than u and my mum is almost the nicest person on earth like she feeds squirrels and stuff and i just compared u to my mother im sry lol   
and the kids are really great. and ur great too.  
thank u joonmyun!!!!! c u soon

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@kimjongdae**  
 **at 10.45p.m.**  
:) see you

 

 

 

 

 

 

[phone contact changed from]  **a@kimjongdae**  [to]  **a@jongdae**  [successfully]

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Kyungsoo,” whines Joonmyun, “I’m attracted to Jongdae, this is a problem. Why aren’t you giving me advice like a good friend?”

“How is it a problem?” Kyungsoo calmly sips at his americano. “Jongdae is obviously good for you. And the kids. Just date him.”

“But,” says Joonmyun helplessly, thinking about her, and how her face still smiles at him from the beside table, and how the cupboard still smells of her perfume sometimes when he pulls something out from the dusty back of it, and how her family would probably start a riot if they heard he got involved with a man four years after their daughter passed away. “But.”

“She’d be happy for you,” says Kyungsoo, sincerely. “She would. Why can’t you believe that, Joonmyun? She’d have wanted you to be happy, not pining away after her four years from her death.”

“But she was everything,” murmurs Joonmyun into his cup, and Kyungsoo rests his hand on Joonmyun’s arm comfortingly.

“She was,” says Kyungsoo, “was, Joonmyun. You have a chance. Take it, before it slips through your fingers.” He pauses to take another sip, and adds, “and that’s the good friend advice you wanted, there you go.” He pats Joonmyun’s arm. “Now, come on. We have documents to sort through.”

 

 

 

 

 

Things don’t really change much after that night.

Joonmyun still works long, tiring hours, and comes back home to two bundles of excitement, and Jongdae still seems as cheerful as ever, holding Jongin’s hand and patting Sehun on the shoulder (instead of ruffling his hair like everyone else does, and Joonmyun knows Sehun hates it when people do that, and it just adds to the fact that Jongdae is amazing and knows just what the kids need). 

But now, there’s an additional face to the dinner table, and it almost feels like a family, the way Joonmyun scolds Jongin for playing with his carrots and Jongdae tsks knowingly but pats Jongin on the head anyway, and the way Jongdae compliments Sehun on his school things while Joonmyun beams proudly, and it’s pictureque, almost. 

A strange imitation of a family, but it’s whole, and good, and Joonmyun will take it.

“Daddy,” says Jongin sleepily one night, as Joonmyun is tucking him into bed, “is Jongdae going to stay forever?”

“Why do you ask, sweetheart?” murmurs Joonmyun, smoothing the hair away from Jongin’s forehead. He’ll be needing a haircut soon. “Hmm?”

“Because mommy’s not here, but he’s like a mommy,” comes the answer, and Joonmyun’s next words die in his throat. “I want a mommy. Can Jongdae be our mommy?”

“Oh, Jongin,” whispers Joonmyun, and he presses a light kiss to Jongin’s head. “I know you miss her. I miss her too. But Jongdae’s just the nanny, sweetheart. He’s just going to be here until you both can take care of yourselves.”

“But I don’t want to take care of me,” mumbles Jongin, yawning, “I want daddy and Jongdae to. Please?”

“Goodnight, Jongin,” says Joonmyun, feeling heavy, “sleep tight, okay?”

Jongin hums softly, and drifts off, hands clutching at his blanket loosely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 5.45a.m.**  
do u want coffee & a bagel? im getting breakfast now  
good mornin ^^

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 5.46a.m.**  
you’re a godsend

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 5.47a.m.**  
i kno ;D 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Thank you,” says Joonmyun gratefully, taking the paper bag from Jongdae’s hands, and he inhales the sweet smell of the coffee and breakfast that Jongdae’s brought with him. “Bagel run? Isn’t today a Wednesday, though? You usually eat those cream cracker things.”

“You noticed,” says Jongdae, a pleased grin on his face, “how perceptive. And I just felt like bagels today.”

“Good choice,” mumbles Joonmyun in between bites, “bagels are great.”

Sehun stumbles in a little while later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and he mutters, eyes still halfway-shut, “Morning, Mom. Morning, Dad.”

Joonmyun freezes the second the words leave Sehun’s mouth, and his eyes flit over to Jongdae, who looks a little taken aback, but then he replies, smiling strangely, “Good morning, Sehun.”

Sehun’s gaze snaps open, and his mouth flaps open and close a few times. “Jongdae,” he says, and he spins around and stumbles away hastily back to where he’d just come from.

The kitchen is silent for a few moments.

“I’m sorry.” Joonmyun finds himself apologizing, “Sometimes he just really misses her, and he accidentally says stuff, and I’m sorry—“

“You don’t have to apologise,” says Jongdae, “I understand. There haven’t been a lot of people in his life after his mother died, have there?”

“No,” says Joonmyun quietly, “except some family, but they think he’s just a little brat. He doesn’t like them either, not even my older sister, so it only furthers the notion.”

“But he’s not,” says Jongdae firmly, “he’s a great kid, and I wish he’d just see that.”

“So do I.” Joonmyun glances back towards the doorway, the echo of a too-small child with a too-small voice lingering. “You’re really starting to grow on them, you know.”

Jongdae smiles. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is,” says Joonmyun, and he sips at his coffee, attempting to alleviate the one-two thump that jumps behind his ribcage, “and you’re starting to grow on me too.”

Jongdae doesn’t reply. He just continues smiling the same smile, and tips his own cup to his lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sehun reverts back to his quiet state for a little while after the kitchen incident, and Joonmyun can’t find it in himself to talk to the kid about it.

On the other hand, Jongin has become more intense with his liking towards Jongdae, and snuggles and clings with every chance he has. It only makes Sehun more annoyed, and Joonmyun more unsure.

Kyungsoo picks at a folder, wincing when it falls apart. “These files are so old,” he complains, lugging the entire box of papers onto the table. It falls onto the wooden surface heavily, dust rising into the air. “Also, you’re starting to look just like them. Terrible.”

“Thank you,” says Joonmyun dryly, and he sneezes. “I just haven’t been sleeping too easily.”

“Is it because of Sehun?” Kyungsoo sneezes too, and fumbles for his handkerchief. “Maybe he’s still just embarassed about the thing.”

“After two weeks? No way.” Joonmyun waves his hand at the dust, floating in the air. “God, I hate doing all this grunt work.”

“You and me both,” says Kyungsoo, grabbing another box. “Come on. If we don’t rush, we’ll end up only being done by sunrise.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun returns home later that night to find Jongdae asleep on the couch, with Jongin curled up in his side. “Shh,” says Jongin, who apparently is still awake, a finger pressed to his lips. “Jongdae is sleeping.”

“I can see that,” says Joonmyun, setting his bag down. “What happened?”

“He was already really sleepy when he got here,” says Jongin, little eyebrows furrowed in worry, “and Sehun wasn’t talking to him again, and Jongdae tried to talk to him but Sehun got mad at him and didn’t wanna come out for lunch so Jongdae stood there and talked at the door for ages and then we played and he looked really sleepy so I asked him if he wanted to nap and he said he didn’t wanna but I made him take one anyway.”

“Okay, Jongin. Can you go to your room now? There’s a good boy. Goodnight,” says Joonmyun, as he’s crouching down to rest a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Hey, Jongdae.”

Jongdae makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, still half-dreaming as he whimpers, “But where is he? Didn’t he wake up?”

“Jongdae,” tries Joonmyun again, but to no result. “Jongdae.”

“The car was so fast,” mumbles Jongdae, and Joonmyun pauses for a second, the words prickling through his thoughts. “I told him not to go so fast.”

Joonmyun finally manages to shake him awake with one last call of his name, and Jongdae shoots up immediately, looking like he’s just dipped his hand in boiling water. “Joonmyun, oh, I’m sorry, I just—I fell asleep, ah, I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay.” Joonmyun gives him a hand up. “Jongin told me you were tired.”

Jongdae has dark circles under his eyes, and Joonmyun wonders why he didn’t see it before. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, just.” Jongdae smiles wearily, and shakes his head. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“You’re not a burden.” Joonmyun clasps his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Just,” says Jongdae, softly, “I tend to sleep less around this time of year. I get nightmares really easily, because—well, it’s the anniversary of my family’s passing.”

“Your what?” Joonmyun makes him sit, and his heart is nearly jumping out of his chest. “Do you mean—“

“Mm,” says Jongdae, eyes fluttering with excess sleep, “my parents and little brother died in a car accident years ago. I was the only survivor.”

“Christ,” whispers Joonmyun, and it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard, and of all the people it could have happened to, it would be Jongdae, bright, sweet, caring Jongdae, who doesn’t deserve a single bad thing in his life. “I’m so sorry, Jongdae.”

Jongdae smiles at him. “It was a long time ago. It’s okay. It just tends to hit harder around this time.”

Joonmyun’s grip on Jongdae’s shoulder tightens. “If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel.”

“I know you do,” says Jongdae, and he nods soberly. “Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s what friends do.”

“Friends,” says Jongdae, “that sounds nice. Is that what we are, now?”

“I surely hope so. I don’t think playfully insulting your employees and vice versa can be seen in a very professional manner.”

Jongdae chuckles. “Well, I’d hate to interrupt our little bonding session, but I should be getting back now. It’s getting close to midnight.”

“You can stay over, if you want. You know I’m only going to end up asking you until you say yes.”

“You’re too nice to me,” says Jongdae, and Joonmyun has to smile at the way he yawns, mouth curving into a little bow as he stretches and hums at the same time. “Thanks, Joonmyun.”

“No problem.” Joonmyun leads him to the guest room, and closes the door, whispering, “Sleep well.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.35p.m.**  
i hope you’re thinking of going to sleep tonight

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 11.35p.m.**  
not tonight, i think

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.36p.m.**  
you’re going to become a zombie

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 11.37p.m.**  
id still be a handsome one ;)

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.38p.m.**  
but rlly

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 11.38p.m.**  
u kno how these nights are sometimes

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.39p.m.**  
yea

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.40p.m.**  
i’ll text you till you sleep off then

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 11.41p.m.**  
don’t u hv work tmrw

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.42p.m.**  
there’s this thing called coffee  
besides you’re important too

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 11.43p.m.**  
thanks joonmyun  
now let us discuss the theory of migrating coconuts

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.44p.m.**  
but monty python is so dumbbbbb

**from: a@jongdae**  
 **to: joonmyun**  
 **at 11.44p.m.**  
DDDDD:<<<<< !!!!!! noooooo take that back

**from: joonmyun**  
 **to: a@jongdae**  
 **at 11.45p.m.**  
:P

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joonmyun wishes things were smooth-sailing and perfect, but reality is far from it.

Sehun antagonizes Jongdae for no apparent reason these days, and it reminds Joonmyun of what Sehun had tried with all the previous nannies who’d been employed here. Jongdae still doesn’t give up though, and just calmly continues on as he’s done throughout the day.

Things break one day when Sehun huffs and throws a tantrum, and says, “I hate you!”

“ _Sehun_ ,” says Joonmyun, who’s just returned home after another late night working, aghast, but Sehun is already stalking away to his room. “Sehun, don’t say things like that!”

“Why not?” shoots back Sehun. Joonmyun trails after him, with Jongdae following behind. “You don’t get it, anyway.”

“I don’t get it,” repeats Joonmyun, looking at Sehun incredulously, “if you want to say that, then yes, I _don’t_ get why you hate Jongdae so much. You were fine with him just a few weeks ago. What happened?”

“Nothing,” spits out Sehun, and he doesn’t want to look at either of them. “I don’t want him here.”

“Sehun,” tries Jongdae, “why are you so angry?”

“Because you’re not my Mom, okay!” lashes out Sehun angrily, and he crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed, “you can’t replace her!”

Oh, thinks Joonmyun, and his heart twists painfully. So this is what it’s about.

“I’m not trying to,” says Jongdae softly, “I would never. I’m just the babysitter, Sehun.”

“Then why are you so  _nice_ ,” whispers Sehun thickly, and that’s not the response Joonmyun was expecting. “Why are you always helping me even when I ignore you, and why are you always smiling even when I do bad things to you? People don’t do that. Only moms do that. Moms take care of you even when you do stupid things. But  _you’re_  not supposed to do that. You’re not supposed to be nice. You’re supposed to call me terrible and go away forever like everyone else.”

Jongdae crouches down to his height, and slowly reaches out to wipe a tear away from Sehun’s cheek. “Do you want me to go away?”

“No,” says Sehun, and there’s a stutter in his voice, and he turns away from Jongdae’s hand, “but I don’t need you.”

“You don’t need me to stay,” Jongdae’s voice is understanding, “but you don’t want me to go?”

Joonmyun watches Sehun’s expression cycle several times, before settling on determination. “Yes,” says Sehun fiercely, and he stalks away to his bed, sitting down on it. “So just leave me alone.”

Jongin appears in the door, looking sleepy as he clutches his little teddy bear to his chest. “Why is everyone yelling?”

“Nobody’s yelling, sweetheart,” says Joonmyun, bending down to take a hold of Jongin. “I’ll take you back to bed, okay?”

“Why does Sehun look sad?” Jongin wriggles free from Joonmyun’s grasp, and he trots over to his older brother, and shoves himself into Sehun’s space. “Sehun, why are you crying.”

“I’m not crying,” says Sehun, and he turns away from Jongin. “Don’t be annoying.”

Jongin’s lower lip wobbles, and he climbs into Sehun’s lap. “Sehun, are you mad at Jongdae again? Why are you mad? Don’t be mad.”

“It’s none of your business,” says Sehun, but Jongin is already petting at Sehun’s hair, and Sehun is crumbling. “I don’t want him to be nice, that’s all.”

“But I like it when Jongdae is nice,” whispers Jongin, “he’s the nicest ever. Why don’t you want him to be nice?”

“Because he’s trying to replace Mom!”

Jongin pauses, and draws back to peer at Sehun’s face. “But don’t you want a mommy?”

“I—“ Sehun chokes back a sob. “But he’s not—I don’t want—“

Jongin pats at Sehun’s face kindly. “Jongdae’s not really our mommy,” he says mildly, “duh, ‘cause he’s not a girl. But he plays with us and he help you with school and he gives me cuddles when I fall down and he sings to us before naps and makes us lunches and stuff. He’s sort of like one, isn’t he?”

“I-I guess,” says Sehun hesitantly, obviously unsure of where Jongin is going with this.

“And Jongdae likes you,” continues Jongin, “lots.” 

“No he doesn’t,” says Sehun, sniffling, “I’m mean to him.”

“Yes he does,” insists Jongin, “you like him too. You’re just sad because you miss mommy. But it’s not like you forget about her because Jongdae is here.”

Joonmyun wants to laugh. His youngest son makes so much more sense than anything he’s said in the past day, and he makes it sound like such fact.

“So don’t be sad.” Jongin nuzzles against Sehun’s shoulder. “I don’t like it when you’re sad. Daddy doesn’t like it when you’re sad either.”

“I won’t be sad,” says Sehun, clutching at Jongin’s back, “but you want Jongdae to stay?”

Jongin looks at him like he’s grown a third head. “Duh!” he says, “why wouldn’t anybody? Now stop being dumb, okay. You’re a big boy.”

“Okay,” says Sehun meekly, and Jongin scrambles off Sehun and trudges over to Jongdae, whom he drags away to tuck him into bed without further ado, and Joonmyun’s left with his eldest alone in the room. “Dad?”

“Yeah?” Joonmyun sits next to Sehun on the bed, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” says Sehun, and he leans into Joonmyun’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for acting like that.” He rubs at his face. “I just… I thought…”

“It’s okay,” says Joonmyun, hushing him. It’s a few moments before Joonmyun says, “You know Jongdae and I aren’t actually together, right?”

Sehun blinks up at him. “You’re not? But Jongin and I thought you guys had been dating for ages!”

Joonmyun coughs in embarassment. “Sehun, we’re not. Besides, Jongdae doesn’t even know that—“ He stops himself there, but Sehun has already caught on.

“Ah,” says Sehun, and his little smirk is out in full force, “you haven’t said anything to him, have you, Dad?”

“No,” admits Joonmyun, and Sehun sniggers. “Hey, don’t laugh at me. I’m scared of some things, too.”

“Scared of what?” Sehun snorts. “Jongdae really likes you, anyone could see that. You like him too, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then?” Sehun scoffs at him. “Go tell him!” He pushes Joonmyun off his bed. “By the way,” he adds, quietly, “tell him I said sorry. I kinda do want him to be nice to me.” 

Joonmyun laughs softly, and ruffles his hair. “Goodnight, Sehun.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Joonmyun says, when Jongdae walks into the kitchen. “I know you probably didn’t expect this much drama when you first started working here, and I’m sorry about everything, I really am.”

“It’s not drama,” says Jongdae easily, and he seats himself next to Joonmyun at the counter. “They’re kids. There’s a lot of stuff they still don’t understand. But there’s also a lot of stuff that they do. It’s only natural that Sehun would feel that way.”

“I’m still sorry, though, that you had to go through all of this. All of us.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” Jongdae smiles at him. “You guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never had a family like this before. I lost mine so long ago, and I haven’t felt that kind of thing in years, not until I met the three of you.”

“And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” says Joonmyun, and he watches Jongdae’s eyes widen just the slightest bit, “and it’s the truth.”

They sit in the still quiet for a few moments.

“You know,” says Joonmyun, drawing Jongdae’s attention, “Sehun said that both of them thought we’d been dating for months, and that’s why Sehun got so defensive. He thought I was replacing her with you.”

“Did they?” Jongdae laughs. “But we’re not, though.”

“We—“ Joonmyun falls silent, and nods, glancing away. He doesn’t know whether he should say it, but Jongdae’s eye falls on something else in the kitchen, and he voices a question.

“Is that Jongin’s drawing?”

The piece of paper is tacked to the fridge with the alphabet magnets, and it flutters lightly in the breeze coming through the window. Four stick figures, holding hands. 

“Yeah,” says Joonmyun, and he’s trying not to hyperventilate, because this is as close to a confession as it can get for him, “our family.”

“But,” says Jongdae, getting up and stepping closer to inspect the picture. Two small stick figures, one smiling and the other scowling, holding onto the hands of two taller stick figures. One is obviously Joonmyun, with a red tie and hair up. The other, however, has a big smile scrawled on. “That’s—“

“You,” says Joonmyun, and Jongdae looks up at him, eyes wide. “He drew you.”

Jongdae looks taken aback, and he whispers, “Why?”

“Because you’re part of the family,” is all Joonmyun says, “and he wants you to stay. We all want you to stay. I want you to stay,” he finishes softly, fingers drumming nervously on the counter, “and I’d hoped that we could perhaps change that part about us not dating too, along the way. If you wanted.”

Jongdae hovers in the space between the fridge and the door for a second, but then shakes his head, and Joonmyun’s heart sinks, thinking that Jongdae’s going to walk right out of the house at this very second, and he prepares himself for the words of rejection.

But then Jongdae is striding over with long, purposeful steps, and he curls his fingers into Joonmyun’s collar, saying, “You’re such an idiot.” And his smile is warm. So very warm.

Joonmyun kisses him.

 

 


	2. some years later

“ _Dad_ ,” screeches Sehun from downstairs.  
  
A well-practiced chorus sounds from two different parts of the house. “Which one?”  
  
“The shorter one,” says Sehun, appearing in the living room, a tie draped all over his shoulders. “Come put your work experience to good use, please.”  
  
Joonmyun steps in, already dressed, looking as sharp as he does every single morning, and his hands immediately go for the long piece of cloth looped around Sehun’s gangly limbs. “You’re seventeen years old and you still can’t tie a tie,” he chides, “and you have the audacity to poke fun at your poor old father?”  
  
“You’re not old,” quips Jongin from the top of the stairs, and he’s got his own tie curled around his neck in a messy knot. “You’re just not young anymore.”  
  
“Isn’t that the same thing?”  
  
Jongdae magically pops up behind Jongin, and hooks his fingers into Jongin’s upturned collar. “You were such a nice, polite little kid when you were younger,” he says, amusement playing across his features, “what happened to you?”  
  
“You did,” says Jongin, and he sticks his tongue out, darting under Jongdae’s arm to run back to his room. “And I don’t want to wear the jacket!”  
  
“It’s your brother’s graduation, you’re wearing that jacket and that’s final,” says Jongdae, trudging after Jongin with a sigh. “Cheeky little brat.”  
  
“Wonder who he got that from,” mutters Sehun, rolling his eyes at the scene. “Dad, what are you doing?”  
  
Joonmyun’s standing a few steps back, smiling. “Just looking at you. I can’t believe you barely came up to my waist when you were six. And now you’re a whole head taller than me.”  
  
“It’s called good fortune,” says Sehun teasingly, and he hollers, “Jongin, you twerp! Get down here! I’m not missing my own graduation just so you can be annoying!”  
  
Jongin stumbles down the stairs, one arm in his jacket and the other arm flailing. “But this jacket is so ugly,” he whines, and Jongdae catches his still wildly gesturing arm, and stuffs it into the other jacket-arm without any further ado. “ _Moooooooooom_.”  
  
“ _Jongiiiiiiiiin_ ,” imitates Jongdae in the same irritating voice, “and I don’t know why you can’t call me Dad like Sehun does.”  
  
“It’s confusing.” Jongin grins at him. “Besides, we all know you’re the one who runs the house. Dad’s useless when it comes to disciplining us, nowadays.”  
  
Behind them, Joonmyun’s spluttering, and Sehun is snickering under his hand. “I am not useless,” protests Joonmyun sourly.  
  
Jongdae smacks Jongin lightly on the arm, saying, “Go get your shoes,” and he presses a light kiss to Joonmyun’s lips, murmuring, “And don’t worry, you’re only useless when it comes to making pasta.”  
  
“It’s been years and you still won’t let me hear the last of it,” mutters Joonmyun, but he cups Jongdae’s cheek with one hand and leans in to kiss him again, smiling as they break apart. “Mm.”  
  
“No more, please,” says Sehun dryly, “please, dear parents, leave my eyesight intact just for this one day.”  
  
“We will grant your boon for this lovely occasion,” says Jongdae grandly. “Now come on, we’re going to be late.”  
  
The kids rush to call shotgun, but Joonmyun catches Jongdae for a second, and takes a short moment to just take him in completely. “Hey,” says Jongdae, smiling, “what are you up to?”  
  
“Nothing,” says Joonmyun, but he’s smiling too. “Our son is graduating today.”  
  
“He is,” says Jongdae, and the brightness in his eyes is unmistakeable. “Your son. Her son. Our son.”  
  
“Yeah,” says Joonmyun, and his hand closes over Jongdae’s own fingers, “our family.”  
  
Jongdae laughs, easy and light, and now, years later, it no longer reminds Joonmyun of old memories of seasides and long working hours, but afternoon songs and phone emoticons and conversations over coffee, and the ache in his chest is no more even though the photo frame on the desk now co-exists with a new one on the bedside table. “Thank you.”  
  
“For what?” asks Joonmyun.  
  
“For letting me in.” Jongdae smiles, and then tugs him away to the door. “Come on. The earlier we get there, the sooner I can start telling Sehun’s friends all his embarassing childhood stories.”  
  
“You’re terrible,” laughs Joonmyun, stumbling after him, “absolutely terrible.”  
  
As the door swings shut, Jongdae’s voice fades off, “But you love me anyway.”

 


End file.
